


Daddy Material

by stories_in_my_head



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Inaccurate Medical Protocols and Procedures, Mentions of Pregnancy, mention of infertility
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-04 13:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stories_in_my_head/pseuds/stories_in_my_head
Summary: “Come to think of it,” Rey reflected, holding the plate of cookies and offering the tempting morsels to Bazine.  “This method is the lesser of two evils - no awkward dates to set up and you’re not obliged to tell the father the good news. No muss, no fuss.”“Been there, done that, zero results.”  Bazine took two cookies, holding one with one hand while nibbling on the other.Guess she has more control over her bladder than her stomach, Rey mused.  “If I wasn’t able to get what I wanted, Lord knows your chances in finding Mr Right.”“If I can’t find Mr Right,” Rey declared, blithely ignoring Bazine’s low-key insult as she raised her teacup before sipping the invigorating liquid, “then I’ll settle for the right mister who jerked off to his porn of choice and deposited his genetic material in a plastic cup.”Bazine choked on a bite, her face turning into a delightful shade of purple.





	Daddy Material

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pikelet184](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikelet184/gifts).



 

The passage of time hadn’t improved Rey’s _uneasiness_ of doctors or hospitals.  Granted, U-Gen Inc’s interiors, with its neutral hues and clever use of scandi furniture, generated more of a hotel chain feel to the surroundings rather than a sterile environment found on most medical facilities.  She shifted, mind awash with memories of a lifetime’s worth of hospital visits, preventing her from appreciating the clean lines and comfortable seating of her plush mid-century armchair.

 

“If you’re this jittery now then I suggest you hire a surrogate.” The woman beside her snapped, huffing as she ungainly uncrossed her legs.  “If I knew what a palaver this would be, I’d have chosen that route.”

 

“Sorry.” Rey apologized.  “I’m really grateful, Bazine.  I know how uncomfortable it is for you -”

 

“Spare me the sympathy.  I asked for a favor, Johnson.  Consider this my way of making things even.”  Bazine half rose from the chair, hissing as she rubbed her lower back.  “This pregnancy thing is fucking overrated. I’m tired, I’m huge, I feel ugly and clumsy!”

 

Looking over, Rey found it baffling why Bazine could ever describe herself in such a negative light.  Other than her swollen chest and rounded belly, Bazine retained her svelte physique, unlike other women during the last stages of their pregnancy.   Her smooth face was enhanced by impeccable make-up, hair expertly styled, dressed in chic designer maternity wear and her feet were encased in red-soled stiletto heels.  Bazine was the picture of expectant motherhood one could only find in the pages of a glossy magazine. Nonetheless, Rey had yet to find within Bazine’s cold, beautiful profile the hopeful excitement of a woman nearing the end of a nine month wait.

 

_Must be the hormones that’s wrecking her,_ she reckoned, though Rey kept her counsel, thinking Bazine wouldn’t appreciate hearing the obvious.  “Do you need anything? Maybe some water?” Rey offered solicitously.

 

“I just emptied my bladder minutes ago, the same organ this _thing_ is using as his personal soccer ball.”

 

Gasping and eyes wide with surprise, Rey grabbed Bazine’s arm in delight.  “You’re having a boy?”

 

Something in Rey’s happy expression broke through Bazine’s haughty demeanor. Her eyes blinked away the sudden appearance of tears and her proud expression wobbled in measured pleasure.  “Yes, a baby. With a penis,” she confirmed, biting her lower lip and sighing deeply.

 

Rey was genuinely happy with her workmate’s good fortune, filing that tidbit of information for later when she would purchase a present for Bazine and her son. She knew from her scant research more than one embryo is fertilized and transferred in the uterus to increase the chances of a successful pregnancy.  Hearing Bazine carrying just one baby didn’t match Rey’s initial readings. The doctors of U-Gen Inc. might have perfected the procedure of allowing women to have one embryo and successfully carry it to term.

 

The thought of doctors and procedures brought Rey’s anxieties back to the fore, her hands grasping unconsciously, blunt nails digging inadvertently.

 

“Watch it!  I’m in a _delicate condition_ ,”  Bazine warned, swatting Rey’s hands away from her arm.   _As delicate as a rattlesnake incubating her clutch of eggs,_ Rey thought rather uncharitably.  Biting back that quick retort, she apologized quickly and removed contact.  

 

Relations with Bazine have never been warm and cordial.  Rey’s first few weeks working in Resistance Industries, a company she long dreamed of working, exposed her to the other woman’s capacity to project venom to whomever she felt was a threat to her position.

 

_“Any woman under thirty is a threat,”_ Rose Tico observed over Friday night drinks.  Her quick, easy rapport with Rose and the rest at Resistance disabused Rey of her previous notion it was her own fault that Bazine treated her like a pariah.  “ _And you, with your supermodel body, megawatt smile, bright talent and sexy British accent? You’re marked for death.”_

 

Rey brushed off Rose’s effusive compliments with a snort and a giggle.  She had received her fair share of admiration for her skills and flattering remarks about her features.  Accepting them gracefully was...a work in progress. It was difficult to live her best life in the present with one eye on the past.  For her, the past wasn’t another country, it was the train that arrived unwanted without fail and left her in a state in unknown intervals.  

 

She was coping better now, yet Bazine, with her constant undermining tactics, started to affect her work.  An unknown force in the universe dealt Rey an unexpected ace in her hand. Bazine needed her help to retrieve valuable data she lost in her work laptop (“ _I didn’t know those software updates were important!”)_.  It took hours of unpaid overtime, but Rey was able to restore the lost files and now, Bazine owed her one.  Gone was her overt hostility, replaced with a grudgingly respectful workplace relationship. To paraphrase the popular song, they will never ever, ever be together as friends, but Rey was fine with that.

 

“Tell me more about the doctor, Dr...Putt?”                                

                

“Plutt,” Bazine corrected, running her palms against her expanded belly.  “Nothing to add to what’s already on the brochure. Although,” she paused to look around before leaning into Rey, “I've heard he's heavily funded.”

 

“You mean he gets research grants?”

 

The pregnant woman snorted, but kept her voice low. “Those are peanuts compared to what I heard U-Gen is receiving. Think venture capital levels.”  Bazine murmured an amount, the levels of which Rey knew were reserved exclusively for emerging tech companies.

 

The insistent peal of a mobile rang from an expensive leather bag.  Grumbling as she reached down to retrieve the device, Bazine excused herself and took the work-related call.  Uttering a non-committal sound, Rey thought nothing about the wealthy investing in medical technology. It had been done before.  However, she was astonished at the highly unusual amounts a clinic like U-Gen had been able to receive by way of investments. Fertility difficulties, natural or otherwise, were a sad, distressing situation no one should suffer, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t a typically painful or debilitating affliction.  Rey would’ve expected the capitalists to invest in ailments that were life-threatening or afflicted a large number of the population so they would receive a quick and reasonable return on their investment, if not for purely altruistic or moral reasons.

 

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her musings.  “Ms Johnson? Dr Plutt will see you in a moment. If you and your companion could follow me please, we have a room ready for you.”  

 

Rey nodded solemnly at the smartly dressed receptionist.  Rising up and smoothing the creases of her dress, her concentration was completely focused on walking the few paces without losing her dignity by tripping over wobbly knees.  Bazine waddled behind, trailing like an exotic mallard in her thousand dollar shoes.

 

 

\--0--  

 

They were cooling their heels inside a consultation room, waiting for the doctor to appear.  The bland, unobtrusive design of the reception area continued to influence this room’s decor.  Its non-clinical look was clearly intended to soothe, if not distract, an anxious or worried patient.  Eyeing the smaller space, Rey couldn’t help but wonder why they were selling the “this ain’t a clinic” vibe a little too hard.     

 

“This is only an initial consultation.” Bazine reminded Rey, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’re not leaving this place with a fetus already in your belly.”

 

Bristling at the insensitive remark, all the reasons why Rey thought it was a good idea to have Bazine in confidence flew out of the window. “I suppose you were an oasis of calm when you had your procedure?”  

 

“I was excited, to be honest,”  Bazine admitted, her fingers picking lint from the armchair.  “I was about to be a mommy! I expected the heavens to open up, cherubs singing praises and throwing rose petals at my feet.”  Her shoulders started to shift, presumably to shrug in a nonchalant fashion, but sagged completely, her torso leaning heavily against the backrest, sniffling a few tears along the way.  “I wanted to experience, to feel, that life-altering moment mothers always say when they get pregnant, you know?”

 

Her initial irritation evaporated at Bazine’s admission.  Rey marveled at how this normally cool, collected woman could express a range of opposing emotions in the space of a half hour.  Feeling that any words of sympathy towards her would sound trite, Rey reached over to cover Bazine’s hand with hers.

 

Bazine’s head bobbed, her jaw working to swallow in rapid succession. “I’m not selling this well to you, am I? Don’t worry, you won’t feel any pain,” she reassured Rey.  “Come to think of it, you won’t feel _anything_ at all.”

 

“I’m sure everything will change once your son is born.”

 

“You think so?”  Bazine asked, seizing both of Rey’s hands.  Her voice, modulated to be low and sensual in the workplace, was now high-pitched and winded, like a child waking up from a bad dream.   

A heaviness weighed low on Rey’s stomach.  She loathed to tell Bazine a lie, even for reassurance, choosing to offer words to stoke something more important to the woman than any abstract feelings or emotion: her ego.  “I believe anything is possible if you set your mind to it.”

 

Breathing a sigh, Bazine nodded emphatically at the positive words, like a parishioner hearing the pastor’s sermon on the Sunday gospel.  Rey suspected this version of Bazine, in her hormone-induced candor, would never see the light of day. A discreet knock announced the arrival of the same receptionist who looked after them, bringing a tray laden with a pot and a pair of tea cups, together with a plate of cookies.  

 

The promise of a steaming cup of tea already greatly improved Rey’s mood. She bestowed the receptionist a sunny smile, murmuring her thanks.  The receptionist smiled in return, biding her leave and closing the door discreetly behind her. As she poured the amber brew in the delicate china, Rey notched a brow of enquiry towards Bazine, who in turn shook her head in refusal.

 

“Come to think of it,” Rey reflected, holding the plate of cookies and offering the tempting morsels to Bazine.  “This method is the lesser of two evils - no awkward dates to set up and you’re not obliged to tell the father the good news. No muss, no fuss.”                   

 

“Been there, done that, zero results.”  Bazine took two cookies, holding one with one hand while nibbling on the other.   _Guess she has more control over her bladder than her stomach,_ Rey mused.  “If I wasn’t able to get what I wanted, Lord knows your chances in finding Mr Right.”   

 

“If I can’t find Mr Right,” Rey declared, blithely ignoring Bazine’s low-key insult as she raised her teacup before sipping the invigorating liquid, “then I’ll settle for the right mister who jerked off to his porn of choice and deposited his genetic material in a plastic cup.”    

 

Bazine choked on a bite, her face turning into a delightful shade of purple.  She grabbed the fresh cup Rey poured for her, gulping the still-hot tea to dislodge the cookie from her throat.  Rey carefully rubbed Bazine’s back as she wheezed loudly, murmuring regrets and apologies. Heaving coughs hacked through her pregnant body, as if her throat was obstructed by the whole biscuit.  Waving off her comforting hand, Bazine stood up and walked towards the door.

 

“Do you need help?”

 

“I’ll - be - fine!”  Bazine choked. “Wait - for - doctor,” she instructed before rushing to the door.

 

Left to her own devices, Rey finished her cup, taking precautions to dunk a cookie into the tea before biting into it.  When the door opened again, she was expecting the annoyed countenance of Bazine, make-up slightly smudged and berating Rey's runaway mouth.  The man at the door raised her hackles to the quick, the warmth of the tea cooled and soured within her belly. Her first impression of this stranger switched on instincts Rey hadn’t felt since…

 

“Good afternoon, please don’t stand up on my account. Ms Johnson, I take it?”  The man, pale and portly, enquired politely. “I am Dr Unkar Plutt. _Delighted_ to meet your acquaintance.”                     

\--0--

Dr Plutt was profusely solicitous and mild-mannered, asking how her day went and offering another pot of tea to be delivered.  “I know you English cannot function without your tea,” he noted, light and teasing, as he made himself comfortable. The swivel of his ergonomic chair groaned as he settled his full weight on the seat.     

 

Rey winced at the grating noise, not bothering to hide her expression.  She sat with her back ramrod straight, the hands on her lap shaped into fists, her mind whirling in confusion as to how Dr Plutt knew her country of origin.   “No, thank you, I’m afraid I have already overstepped on your hospitality.”

 

“Nonsense, Ms Johnson.  May I call you Rey? As I was saying, Rey -” Dr Plutt continued without pausing to allow her to accept his request. “- we might be a clinic, but we treat our patients like valued customers.  We heal, and at the same time, we aim to _satisfy_.”

 

A cold shiver slithered along her spine. The doctor hadn't committed anything overtly distasteful for Rey to push her internal panic button.  However, it was a task of sisyphean proportions to keep her face serene and her composure calm, her wild imagination rampant with the image of Dr Plutt with twin rows of sharp teeth gracing that wide, corpulent mouth.  A predator, slow moving yet deadly, a creature who would clamp its jaws on its hapless prey until it gave up the will to live. “Thank you for your reassurance, Dr Plutt. No wonder Bazine - Ms Netal - spoke highly of you.”         

 

“Please, call me Unkar,” he cajoled.  “And what a coincidence, since our dear Bazine sang _your_ praises.  What was the phrase she used?  Ahh, she called you her ‘plain and nerdy friend who can’t get a date’.”  The doctor sneered in remembered glee while giving her an unabashed once over.  “Just between ourselves, my dear Rey, it seems our mutual acquaintance tried to undersell your virtues, no? Seeing you in the flesh has proven my suspicions were correct.”

 

Sitting down, the hem of her dress fell just below her knee, yet Rey felt the uncontrollable urge to pull the edges lower the more Dr Plutt became overly familiar.  “I have always been a firm believer of ‘underpromise and overdeliver’,” she responded primly, checking the door discretely to find out whether it’d been locked.

 

“I am all for managing expectations, Rey, but I hope we exceed yours,” Plutt purred.  “Now, let’s get to the matter at hand, shall we?”

 

Rey nodded sharply, unnerved by the doctor’s sudden change in tactics.  Plutt opened a nondescript folder, presumably her file, and perused the spare notes quickly, muttering a sound now and then.  

 

“It seems you’ve failed to complete our form,”  Plutt chastised. Gone was the doctor’s predatory undertones, replaced by something almost paternal, an unashamed effort to gain her trust.  “It is important that we have your complete medical history, before we decide on the best option for you and any little ones you decide to carry.”                     

 

Rey wasn’t buying any of it.  Her instincts had never failed her, and they had been screaming the house down the moment Dr Plutt and his foul stench arrived.  “As you know, I am not American, Dr Plutt. My medical records are overseas and I...I moved a lot during my childhood. It will take some time to gather them all.”

 

“Of course.  I understand perfectly.”  Plutt leaned back as far as the chair allowed, eliciting another agonised groan of protest from the poor seat. “A failed socialist experiment such as the NHS should never be held up as an example of excellent healthcare.  I prefer a free-wheeling, consumer-led system, where you can receive quality healthcare without the long wait or the silly government intervention.”

  

_That ‘failed socialist experiment’ saved my ass, you pompous prick_ , Rey brooded, remembering those times she needed urgent medical attention and the doctors and nurses delivered, without hesitation.  All Plutt was missing from the How to Act Like A Villain playbook was a mustache to twirl between his fingers. “I will provide more once they are available,”  she hedged, knowing that she would never step into this facility ever again. Not in a million years.

 

Bazine’s sudden appearance halted further discussions.  Rey failed to hide her look of disgust as the other woman received Dr Plutt’s welcome.  Her dislike of Plutt wasn’t born out of his appearance, repulsive as he was. But how could someone like Bazine, who notoriously put the value of appearances over everything else, and would never entertain the advances of a man such as Plutt, now suffer his attentions, allowing the man to kiss both of her cheeks and rub her pregnant belly?  

 

“Are you getting well acquainted with my friend, Unkar?”

 

“She’s proving to be a shy, stubborn flower, my dear Bazine,”  Plutt noted, helping Bazine to her chair before seeking his own.  “Not everyone is a social butterfly like you.” The woman tittered at the compliment, no doubt pleased as punch to being better than Rey at something, trivial as it was.  “I was about to ask our Rey if she has a potential donor in mind?”

 

An image of a man suddenly appeared from the recesses of her mind.  Long, luscious locks of hair, amber colored eyes, a patrician nose, and lips as ripe as summer’s plums.  A face, quiet and solemn. Tall limbs, sturdy and safe. A voice that’s deep and molten. She quickly banished that trail of forbidden thought, knowing it would take her to dark, sensual places where the end was never really in her sights.        

 

“She’s in the same ‘singles only’ boat as I am.  In steerage, of course,” Bazine answered on Rey’s behalf.  

 

Plutt guffawed at Bazine’s malicious teasing.  “There’s no shame in entering this world in poverty.  Isn’t it what this country stood for? The huddled masses, tired and hungry?  And might I add, I find your unattached state hard to believe,” Plutt declared gallantly. “I do not need to tell you, dear Rey, that fertility treatments are not cheap.  All new technology comes at a price. But, with the right patient and the right incentive, I believe we can arrive at a satisfactory agreement.”

 

Finely shaped brows furrowed and jaws slacked indignantly when Rey heard Plutt’s implied offer.  She’d rather insert a used turkey baster, with pieces of fat still clinging at the cylinder, to inseminate her eggs than to allow this sorry excuse for a Bond villain near her body.  Rey was appalled at how lackadaisical and unprofessional Plutt’s approach was to handling potential and existing patients. “ _If_ I decide to go through with the recommended procedure, let me assure you, Dr Plutt, that _I_ would have the financial capacity to pay for it.  I don’t need to know what _incentives_ you give to your other clients.”

 

“How. Dare,”  Bazine growled.  “I won’t recommend U-Gen to you if they were up to no good.  Don’t you know they have a waiting list as long as my arm and you’re here because of _me_?”

 

“Now, Bazine, don’t you get all worked up, hmm?” Plutt raised a hand to deescalate the mounting hysteria spewing from Bazine’s mouth while turning his regard back to Rey.  “I do not take offence at your outburst. Rest assured, everything that we do is completely overboard and will pass the toughest of ethical standards. Pardon my name-dropping, but our clinic is represented by the First Order.  If you don’t follow politics in the news they are -”

 

“I know who they are,”  Rey asserted. She was thoroughly well-acquainted with the First Order, more than this doctor could know.   _It was harder each day to ignore what the Order is associating itself with_ , her roommate, Ben Solo, shared one night.   _I had to leave before my last shred of decency, of humanity, was gone._ Knowing they were in cahoots with the Order only solidified Rey’s prejudiced view of this clinic and this doctor.  

 

“Good, that’s good.  I hope our...connection with the Order has eased your worries?”  Plutt asked, his beady gaze pointed and searching. Rey nodded reluctantly, hoping to conclude this meeting as soon as possible.  She couldn’t wait to leave this place and scrub her skin raw, so thoroughly oily and odious was his treatment of her concerns.

 

“I don’t want to stoke any jealousy between good friends,” the doctor reassured both women, wiggling his thin brows suggestively.  “But you possess the same characteristics we found in Bazine, and I strongly believe you are a perfect candidate.”

 

Rey’s hooded eyes stared at him calmly.  “For what? And how would you know, I haven’t provided my complete medical history, remember?”           

 

“Call it...Experience?  I didn’t rise to the peak of my field without learning a thing or two.  And if you agree to use our services, I believe I have the perfect donor for you.”

 

“Not _MY_ donor, Unkar!”  Bazine whined.

 

“You allow multiple women to use the same donor?!”  Rey gasped, horrified at the thought that her potential child would be half siblings with not only with Bazine’s, but a host of other mother’s children.

 

Plutt cackled at the women’s shocked reactions.  “Millions of sperm are released during ejaculation, and nature only needs one,” Plutt intoned, resting his elbow on the desk and showing his right forefinger.  “Just one sperm cell, to fertilize one egg. _Why_ waste the rest?”        

 

“I thought I was the only one using his sperm -”  Bazine objected.

 

“We agreed to no such thing, Ms Netal,”  Plutt replied, the biting edge to his tone silenced her complaints.  “As I explained, it seems a waste to use one man’s sperm exclusively for one woman.  This is a fertility clinic, not a matchmaking service. We. however, monitor the frequency by which a particular donor is chosen, and if it has reached a certain number, the clinic withdraws it from the pool of donors.”

 

Their earlier tentative camaraderie irretrievably broken, Rey attempted to be gracious and diplomatic.  “There might be other equally acceptable donors, I have no problem going with that.” While she still harbored the idea of motherhood, this strange encounter turned her off completely from U-Gen.  She could say ‘good riddance’ of this facility, yet Bazine would remain a workmate, and appeasing her pride was Rey’s primary concern if she wished to maintain her truce with the other woman.

 

Plutt reached under his desk and opened a hidden shelf, retrieving another file and presenting the same to Rey.  “What’s the harm looking at the donor’s file?” He insisted, practically shoving the file under her nose. “Go on.  Don’t mind your little friend’s outburst. It’s a very interesting read.”

 

_It won't hurt, it’s not like I am going through with this anyway,_ she justified to herself.  With surprisingly calm hands she accepted the file to read its contents.

 

“Don’t bother reading, I know the profile of that donor by heart,” Bazine suggested.  “Male, of course, caucasian, and _very_ tall, six foot three, dark brown hair and light brown eyes,” she enumerated.  “Ivy League education, works in legal, six figure salary,” she enumerated the donor’s vitals with a wistful tone in her voice.  “I’ve been _trying_ to get Unkar to give me his contact number, but he has been very difficult.”

 

No wonder Bazine felt proprietary, almost possessive about her donor.  On paper, the donor was every woman’s dream. Heat suffused Rey’s cheeks thinking about the man who was the fixture of her own dreams, who possessed the same physical characteristics as Bazine’s donor.  Come to think of it, Ben went to an Ivy League school too, evidenced by the college shirt she nicked from his freshly laundered pile.

 

“Bazine tried to ask for a picture, too,”  Plutt interrupted. “Alas, patient confidentiality extends to donors.  And this particular donor was adamant no further information other than what’s on file was to be provided.”  

 

“You’ve met my donor, Unkar?”  Bazine enquired hopefully.

 

A tightening of his features were an indication he let out more than what was agreed upon.  “My dear, I can neither confirm nor deny that, all I can say is… he’s not a monster.”

 

“Does this non-monster have a name?”

 

“Of course they don’t give out their names,” Bazine retorted.  “Just an initial. B.S.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks for fettuccine_alfreylo for beta'ing this fic.
> 
> I'll post the prompt on the second chapter, it's a bit spoilery.


End file.
